


Burn

by supermassivebutthole



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: 15 years post, BAMFBella, Eventual EdBella probably unless I have her kill him, Except its not at all like the mob they're just bitchy vampire covens, Mobvibes, Vampire Bella, a joke, like really post, post New Moon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supermassivebutthole/pseuds/supermassivebutthole
Summary: 15 years after new moon, Edward didn't come back to save Bella from Victoria, and she was turned into a vampire. But she's moved on to greener pastures, the greenest of which involves overthrowing the Volturi. Canon pairings.
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	1. Bleach

**Author's Note:**

> It's only a draft, baby. If you promise to take none of this seriously, I promise not to cry when you point out my continuity errors.

My newest pet project was a feral newborn named Prisha. She and I sat on a park bench in the early morning, practicing mindfulness. We were watching the dew evaporate off the grass, which we'd done about ten times before, but never in such a public place. She was starting to get jumpy.

“Here, this will help.” I said, holding my flask out to her. “Take a swig when you feel yourself slipping.”

Prisha frowned at it, “What's in it?”

“Does it matter?” I asked as a woman sauntered by with an absolutely delicious smelling toddler in her arms.

Prisha snatched the flask out of my hand and took an urgent swig.

“Pure bleach,” I explained as she let out a low, disgusted hiss, “strong enough to override pretty much any human smell.”

“You drink bleach?”  
  
“Doubles as a punishment and a palate cleanser.”

Prisha coughed a laugh. “Why should I be punished if I haven't done anything?”

I shrugged. Self-sacrificial punishment rituals were good for some newborns, it assuaged their guilt and reminded them of what they were. She wouldn't have asked that question if she were one of those. “Just a palate cleanser, then.”

I didn't have to tell her that talking wouldn't help with mindfulness. She turned her attention back to the grass and the way moisture evaporated off of it in wisps of smoke, curling up to disappear in the bright yellow sun.

There was a crack in Prisha's concealer, right at the side of her mouth, and one persistent twinkle was shining through. Probably not perceptible to human eyes, but even so, I reached over and smoothed it with my thumb. She didn't move, already used to my meddling, and engrossed in the meditation despite it. Maybe as a gift I'd commission her a little dimming charm.

Three hours later, I started to feel a tingling. Someone was poking at my shield again. I allowed it for a moment, trying to get a sense of what I might be up against. It wasn't the first time this had happened recently, and it felt like the same suspect. The talent was faint from distance, and not physical in nature. I pulled my perma-sheild back a bit, and then rammed it out hard, swatting the offending talent away like a incessant bug. A prompt message. _Back off._

“We need to go.” I murmured to Prisha.

If the owner of the talent was serious about their snooping, I didn't want to help them narrow down my location by being in the same place when they tried again. Prisha knew better than to ask any questions. We rose and moved toward the parking lot as quickly as possible without arousing suspicion from the joggers and dog walkers whose innocent eyes never left our faces.

It was only once we were safely inside my innocuous baby blue Ford Ranger, I hazarded to speak. “How are you and the others getting along?”

“Oh, well enough. Cyri is trying to teach me Javascript but I don't really have a mind for it.”  
  
“You're a vampire. You have the mind for anything.” I reminded her. It was important for newborns to stretch their preconceived notions about their abilities while their brains were still mutable, wet with their own blood.

She shrugged, “I miss the Dairy Queen counter.”  
  
I snorted, “Don't we all. You always have the option of transferring to the Grove, if you don't like the tech stuff. ”

Prisha crossed her arms, another silly artifact from her human life, and an obvious tell.

“What?”  
  
“I think...” She hesitated, “I think some people in the house are upset that we work together so often. They don't understand why I'm useful to you.”

“You're not useful to me. Not yet.” I reminded her. “And neither are they. It's apprenticeship.”

“I tried to explain that, but—”

“It'll be an exercise in diplomacy. I trust you not to let it come to a fight. The last thing I need right now is a spectacle.”

Prisha lived in a little apartment in the center of Belltown, nicknamed the Hive because at any point in time it was absolutely buzzing with vampires. There were only two human residents in the entire building; Lovely for their obliviousness. The safest human beings in all of Seattle.

One of them, an old man in a weather beaten Dolphins letter jacket, was smoking on his patio when I pulled up to the curb.  
  
“What's his name?” I asked Prisha, gesturing.  
  
“Don.”

“Don.” I repeated, admiring him. He reminded me of Charlie, in a way. The mustache, maybe. It couldn't have been the jacket. Charlie hated the Dolphins. "He's charming.”

Prisha snorted. “He's just another old man to me. And he doesn't even smell very good. Will I see you tomorrow?”  
  
“No, actually. There's something I need to take care of, I”ll be tied up. If you run into any more problems with your roomies, talk to Cyri.”

“But Cyri told me to talk to you.” That wasn't a surprise to me. He was a genius, but it was near impossible to rope him into socialization.

“Well, now he's outranked.” I said as she hopped out of the car, knowing full well at some point in the week I'd get a call from Cyri complaining that _my children_ were getting rowdy, as if wasn't _his_ job to keep them in line.

I watched Prisha leave, waving at Don on the way in, before I pulled back into the street, cell already in hand. She answered on the first ring.  
  
“Strix.”  
  
“It's Sig. Someone tried to jab me this morning.”

“Again? Did you ask Corvus?”

“I'm on my way over there right now, but I doubt she knows anything.”

“You sound like you have a theory.” I was glad it sounded that way. In truth, the attacks had made me jumpy, and I called because I knew Strix could get me even and not be weird about it.  
  
“No, not yet. Maybe after I dump secrets with the girls.”

“Okay...Bella?”  
  
“You aren't supposed to call me that.”  
  
“We're secure. Tighter than a drum.”

“The one thing all dead vampires have in common is—”  
  
“--they weren't careful enough. I know. Don't be paranoid. He can't touch me any more than he can touch you. Anyway, you gotta stop calling me every five seconds, I'm up to my neck in newborns and they all wanna speak to Mama Shield. The questions are getting annoying. You aren't as interesting as everyone is supposed to think you are.”

“Jeez, thanks. Tell them I love all my babies equally, and I'll swing by soon to scare them veggie.”  
  
“They'll love that.”  
  
“Bye, Noemi.”

“Bye, Bella.”

Foot flat on the petal, I sped to the Grove.

The grove was a beautiful Spanish revival home—less McMansion, more oversized bungalow—that butted right up against the shores of Lake Washington. It had belonged to some of the victims of the first silent war, when everything was chaos. Before I showed up. Buying it cheap from the bank was one of the first things I did when I was assigned. Now it was filled with secret keepers, the best of whom we called Corvus. She greeted me at the door, and led me silently into the reception room.  
  
Corvus was another satelite agent, much older than me. She'd been turned in the late 1800's, recruited by the Volturi in the 20's, and she'd died with a mane of wavy brown hair that ran down past her knees. She kept it down since her death. On anyone else, it would give an air of Mormonism. On Corvus, it was high french drama. That, combined with her eyes, orange like a dimming fire, made her look more like a vampire than any vampire I'd ever met.

There were seven of us waiting to greet me in the reception room, lounging all about like Greek sculptures come to life. The walls of the room were heavily robed in brown-red Velvet, and the heels of my shoes clicked as I walked across the floor. As soon as I walked in, everyone stared. They didn't know who I was, but they could see the charms on me, and that indicated that I must be someone special. Only Lucia, the charm maker, eyed me like the cat that ate the canary. I gave her a wink.  
  
“How is everybody?” I asked, and the tension cracked like eggshell.  
  
“Everybody is well.” Corvus answered for them, “And everybody should be going to find something to do, yes? My guest and I need to have a private conversation.”

The other vampires in the room disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if they'd never been there at all, and I walked over to one of the plush couches to sit. Corvus followed.

“A low ranking V scout came through.” She started, no time wasted with courtesy. “No talent, no interests except in pleasure and local cuisine. But he paid in documents.”

“V documents?” That was rare, and _high_ treason. The Volturi didn't like a paper trail.

“Correspondence. Mostly movement notices. A few personal letters. Apparently this scout was tasked with destroying them, but thought he might be able to barter.” She leaned across the couch to open the drawer of the side table, and pulled out a stack of envelopes, tied with ribbon.

“Clever boy. What'd he get out of you?” I took the stack.

“Two nights with Clover, and a kayaker with an undiagnosed brain tumor.”

I swallowed the familiar pang of regret at the loss of human life. Corvus would see it as a weakness.“Documents are worth at least double that. You shorted him. Did he know?”

She smiled, revealing the gap in her two front teeth, “I don't think so. He seemed awfully grateful to me.”

“Alright. Has there been any talk? Any questions?”

“There are always questions.”

I sighed, “Any concerning questions? Particularly from tourists with talents?”

“No, nothing more than the usual fanfare. Are you looking for someone?”

“Someone's been testing me.” I admitted, unsure if I should. “Not our borders. Me.”

“How is that possible? Do we know of anyone who—” Her voice pitched up into shrillness. Damn. I was allowed to be jumpy, but if my people got jumpy, that wasn't good.  
  
“The only thing I can think of is trackers.” Calm. Decided. “What's your last update on Demetri?”  
  
“He's down been South, helping with the Instabilities.”

“Any reason V might want to rope me into that whole mess?”  
  
Corvus scoffed, “God, I hope not.”

“Yeah, me too.” The trouble about keeping up appearances of order in a cesspit like Seattle was that one day, the powers that be might decide to reassign me. And then everything would fall to shit. “Okay, well, I'm gonna go sink to the bottom of the lake and think it through.”  
  
“Alright. I know you said it wasn't your scene, but if you ever need some stress release...” Corvus smiled her gap-toothed grin, and gestured to the room around her.

“No, thanks.” I courteously excused myself, the packet of letters tucked into my jacket pocket.  
  
“Prude.” She teased as I left. She didn't know the half of it.

  
With the letters safely stashed in my glove compartment , I left my car in the driveway and walked down to the little park on the lake. It was midwinter, probably ten degrees with windchill, even with the sun shining brilliantly enough to make me double check my charms. The lakefront was thankfully deserted, so I wiggled out of my redundant winter clothes and slid into the cool, calm water.

Lake Washington is two hundred and forty-one feet deep, and a still vampire sinks like a stone. I needed to be about five million miles away from every impossible issue that waited for me as soon as I resurfaced, but two hundred and forty-one feet could take some of the pressure off.

I lied to Corvus. I didn't think it was a tracker. Anyone who knew me well enough to target me would already know where I was, already have the intel to find me. Demitri wasn't brave enough to try to kidnap me for the South, not with the following I had. That would be mutiny.

It could be the Redies in Bellvue. They had a Curse talent, a nasty, unsmiling girl named Bet. It would be stupid of them, but it was no mystery they hated me. The restrictions I'd put on their hunting, the pressure I'd put on them to convert, and the fact that I converted nearly every poor sap they turned in defiance, meant that they had a reason to try something. But if it wasn't them, and I threatened neutralization again, it might start something I had a hard time finishing. And I had enough on my plate.

Unprompted, the kayaker with the brain tumor popped into my head. Pieces of him were probably floating around down here with me. Brain tumors were treated all the time, and vampires had good noses, but not good enough to sniff out whether or not a tumor was operable. Not to mention that even if he was slated for death, if we'd left him be, he'd have time with his family, to get his business in order, to give his loved one's closure. All that was lost for some probably useless documents and for one of the Volturi's peons to get his rocks off.

The fine balance was in getting enough alone time to think through my problems, but not enough to convince myself that the best solution was to burn it all down. Once I started thinking of the human cost of operation, I knew it was time to get out of the water.

When I surfaced again, the sun had set, and other than one lone camping tent nestled into the bushes, the park was still deserted. I pulled my clothes back on, and walked back to the truck. The truck. I'd have to get rid of it soon. It was too risky to have a permanent vehicle, another thing associated with me, when I was supposed to be a mystery. Unfortunately, vehicles apparently didn't take to charming very well. At least that's what Lucia said.

I decided I would give myself one more day with it as I drove home. The doorman greeted me as Candy, the preschool teacher who had died of an embolism a year ago. I took the stairs, the five second elevator wait would feel like torture when my mind was spinning out as fast as it was right now. Stepping through the front door didn't give me much relief. My apartment was Candy's apartment, a cover, just like everything else.  
  
Decorated in syrupy pastels, the bookshelves in the living room held textbooks on child development and early childhood education. There was a single row of pulp romance novels, which I'd read through on my first night in the apartment. I tried not to distract myself with the good stuff anymore. Jane Austen was left behind with my humanity.

The walls still held pictures of Candy's friends and family, who'd all been compelled to forget about her apartment by one of my more skilled suggestion Talents. The bedspread had been unaltered except for the occasional dusting, and still smelled like Ms. Candy.

I thought of Forks, of Charlie, of the yellowing curtains on the window at home. _You like purple, don't you?_ Candy's bedding was teal. I pushed Forks out as easily as I'd let it in. _Things are only safe when they're in the past._

In need of distraction, I walked over to the desk and pulled out the packet of letters I'd brought up from the truck. I intended to flick through all of them and pick the most juicy looking, but the return address on the second letter from the top stopped me in my tracks.

_Carlisle Cullen_

_Nordlysveien 47_

_Oslo, Norway 0491_

I can't tell you how long I just stared at the name. _Carlisle Cullen_. It'd been fifteen years since I'd thought of the Cullens, long enough that most of my memories of them had faded, the way all human memories tend to do. If I thought of Carlisle, it would only be a skip of the memory to think of the others, to think of _him._ And that was unacceptable. I opened the letter anyway.

“ _Dearest Aro,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. There are two purposes in my writing it. The first is to thank you for the birthday gift you sent along. I am always grateful for your generosity and kindness, and that you think of me enough to remember such an occasion. I am also writing to inform you that my family has moved residences again, and are now based in Oslo, Norway. I'm working at the local emergency room, and the rest of my coven is settled at the local college. All except Edward, who--”_

Of course he had to be mentioned by name. _Of course._ I pressed the activation button on the paper shredder next to the desk, and ran the letter through. I pulled out a handful of shreds and ran them again, and then dumped the whole thing down the toilet.

I was walking back to the living room when I felt another twinge in my shield, much stronger than last time. The Talent was back, but not poking. This time they were pulling on me, trying to pull me out of my own protections. Smart, but not smart enough.

I imagined the tension as a cord, followed it, and it found my answer. Of course. They weren't trying to pull me out, they were trying to pin me down. Find my path and follow it forward. A psychic.

I only knew of one vampire in all of history with a psychic talent strong enough to contend with mine. The coincidence of her identity was not lost on me. But I wondered why she would bother. If not for the letter, I would have thought that Aro finally snagged her—as I guessed he'd been trying to for years—and that I was being watched. But if she was happily living in Oslo with the other Cullens, why bother me?

No matter her reasoning, it wouldn't be tolerated. The Cullens were not my allies, and were definitely not permitted to spy on me. If they had a hard time understanding that, then I would make it clear. Without hesitation, I found the thread of the psychic talent that was attached to me, and and used my shield to slice it clean away. That would sting for long enough to get her off my tail.

_See you never, Alice._

  
  
  



	2. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this chapter doesn't make any sense, it's because I wrote it when I was drunk. If it's a work of genius, it's because I edited it while i was still drunk. merry christmas to everyone but stephanie meyer, for whom i only wish the worst. enjoy the snake in your stocking and the dog turd in your shoe, stephie!

So there I was, pacing my apartment at three in the morning, sipping on a deer blood smoothie, panicking. Alice. _Alice, Alice, Alice._ I thought not being hungry might make me feel better, but it just helped me put the problem into sharper, more jolting focus.

How had she figured out I was alive? With Charlie dead, Renee dead, Jacob MIA and the rest of the pack on strict gag order, forged documents and a private funeral, how did she figure it out?

As Signus, I was anonymous, untraceable. The only people who knew my real identity were Aro and Noemi. Aro wouldn't take the security risk for a passing mention to Carlisle, and Noemi didn't even know who the Cullens were.

The only other possibility was far more upsetting. If no one had revealed my identity, that meant there was some future, some not-far-off eventuality, where my shields would be down, my charms would be broken, and I would once again be simple, reachable, killable Bella Swan. I would be vulnerable not just to Alice's visions, but to everyone else who'd ever want to do me or the Olympic Syndicate any harm. If Alice had a vision of me alone, frantic, preparing for a far out-manned firefight, of course she'd keep trying to see—If not out of curiosity, then out of simple self-preservation.

I tried to put myself in her shoes, but it was difficult when I had practically no information on the Cullens' socio-political behaviors. I could barely remember what they looked like—with one notable, blazingly painful exception.

Through Carlisle, the Cullens were allied to Aro, but there had been disagreement over dietary choices, Carlisle hadn't left the Volturi on the best of terms. Aro and the Cullens were acquaintances, he and Carlisle social friends. I couldn't know if Alice would share what she knew with the rest of the family, but I could guess that Carlisle wouldn't find the information prudent to pass on. Not without further investigation.

As soon as they had the information necessary to find me, they would come to do so. There was no doubt about that. They were diplomatic to a fault. Courteous, but loyal to no one apart from themselves. More reasonable than most covens I'd dealt with, but more stubborn too.

If they succeeded in finding me, I would be screwed. The whole Olympic Syndicate would be on borrowed time. Unless I could disappear an entire coven of well-known vampires the same way I disappeared the newborns, one member of the Cullen clan would eventually have a reason to go speak with Aro. One touch of the hand, and he would know everything they knew, everything I'd succeeded in keeping from him this past decade. If the Volturi knew what I was building, my resentment towards them, my power, or my popularity, we'd all be dead a week.

The obvious solution would be to neutralize the threat before it became one, but I knew there was no way I could pull that off. Apart from the moral quandary that she'd been my sister once, killing Alice as soon as she stepped foot in my territory would create six more powerful enemies. Enough to tip the scales and ruin me.

My arm swung without my permission, and the smoothie that was in my hand a milisecond before erupted against the far wall, sending bloody shards flying in every direction. I watched the icy blood drip down the Peptobismol pink wall, and felt, for the first time in years, truly and utterly spent.

I had never considered it would be Alice Cullen that would ruin me. Her brother nearly ruined me when I was human, and vampires with her caliber of talent could ruin me now, but I'd never seen Alice as a threat. In retrospect, she was a blind spot. I hadn't been careful enough.

\--

“The good thing about vampires is that they're never careful enough.” Jacob told me, “That's how we take them down. If you're going to survive, you need to be different.”

I sat on the forest floor, hands folded in my lap, thirty feet away. That was the minimum distance before I smelled his menacing wet-leaves-and fur-scent and tried to tear out his jugular. Not even to eat, just to destroy. I hated who I had become.  
  
“Always know exactly who you're up against before you engage in a fight. Sometimes it's tactical to run.” He continued, pacing like he did when he was angry. He was always angry now, too furious to look at me some days, but brave enough to still be my Jacob. I smelled his fear in the air, and tried to relax. Slump my shoulders, unclench my jaw, breathe. Back then, I still begged my body to be more human, as if that was a thing a vampire could ever be. “Never let your anger fill you up. Save room inside of yourself for your heart, your head, and your fear.”

“My fear?” I asked, raising my voice over the distance.   
  
“It's good to be afraid, but only if you can control it. Fear is the emotion that keeps us alive. That's the mistake all the newborns made. They let anger fill them up, they had no fear. They went for the obvious kill.”

“The obvious kill...” I didn't trust my own words, so I often used his. We both liked it better that way, when I was temperamental and snarling, bitter and pained.

“For vampires, it's the neck, decapitation. Sometimes it's better to aim for the jaw, or focus on taking out a limb. But like I said, no fighting unless you know who you're up against and your back's against the wall.”

I nodded, and he turned away from me. I knew it was easier for him to see me that way, when he didn't have to look at what Victoria had made of my cold, dead body. “I'm going to miss you, Bella.” he said to the air.   
  
“I'm going to miss you too.”

“I know we didn't have much time, but... Did I love you enough? Did you know how loved you were?”

His past tense hit me hard, the last shovel of dirt on my grave.

“I know.” I whispered, too quietly for him to hear. “I knew.” I repeated, loud enough for his ears.

“Where will you go?” He asked, but he knew I'd go to find Edward. Lead by my heart, I had no other choice.

“Somewhere safe.” I said. I didn't know at the time that I was lying to him, planning to walk directly into danger.

“I hope you find somewhere safe.”   
  
“You too, Jake.” I said, and watched him walk slowly, carefully, out of the forest.

–

I called Noemi again. She could help me fix this.   
  
“Strix.”

“Noemi, we have a problem.” I said, hating the vulnerability in my voice.   
  
There was a small pause, “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“I think I know who has been poking at my shield. It's someone from before.”

“What, like the guard? They're all still in Volterra last time I heard.”   
  
“No.” I gulped. Stupid human habits. “Before that.”   
  
“There isn't anything before that.” She said harshly. She was trying to draw the line, I was trying to cross it.

“There is right now.” I pushed, “A psychic talent. Alice Cullen.”

“So?”

“She should think I'm dead. She shouldn't be able to find me, let alone see me. If she's able to pinpoint me well enough to poke around, it means she's seen a vision of me. The only way she could do that is if there is a nonzero chance in the future that we are going to be...disarmed.”

“That's not possible. The Amps can make sure your shield stays up for days.” Our Amplifying talents, Shannon and May, lived with Noemi at the Ranch. They were my redundancies. If something happened to me, they could feed off the echos from my talent and keep the shield running long enough for whoever was in charge to come up with a plan and keep the Olympic Syndicate safe.

“Unless someone gets to the Amps first.”

“They won't get past the Newborns without us knowing.” She argued.   
  
“That's what I'm saying, Noemi. If Alice's vision is accurate...”

“...We're all fucked. How often is it accurate?”

“Future events are based on current choices. So if we play our cards right, we'll be safe . It can't be that set in stone because I don't think she knows where or who I am yet. But that's if it's a fluke. There's a bigger problem. The Cullens are allied with Aro. Whatever they find out about us is basically an open secret, out the window as soon as they pay a visit to Volterra. And if she finds out where I am, they're going to come looking for me. ”

“You think they'd rat on you?”   
  
“No, but they can't avoid one of Aro's invitations forever.”

“How many are there?” She asked, a steeliness returning to her voice.

“Seven.”

“Oh, Jesus, Bella! We can take down seven vampires. We have almost ten times that many.” She so often reminded me of Emmett, always ready for a fight. I swallowed the growl bubbling up in my throat.

“Not without losses.”   
  
“More losses than if we have to fight the Volturi?”   
  
“They're strong. They're old. Half of them have Talents.” I was hedging, and she knew it.

“We're an empire with the strongest shield in existence.” She reminded me dryly.

“Do I need to pull rank, Strix? I said no.”   
  
There was dead air for a beat. If it were any other coven, there would be no question. No weakness. And I had never pulled rank on Noemi. Ever. “ _Why_?”   
  
“We have history.” I admitted, feeling guilty, scared, just shy of begging her to let them live.   
  
“Things are safe when they're in the past. After that, it's free game. You're going to let your entire legacy end, your entire _family die,_ over some human history?”

“I _can't._ Killing them is off the table.”

“Give me one _good_ reason why or I'll find them myself and—”

“Edward Cullen is my mate.” I spat, “Alice Cullen is his sister. Carlisle was like a father to me, for a time. I couldn't kill them if I wanted to, and I don't want to.”

I waited for the questions. _How can that be possible when all vampires mate for life? You mated as a human? Where has he been? Why are you mated with an ally of the Volturi? How do I know you won't turncoat and run to your boyfriend when shit hits the fan?_

She didn't say anything for a long time, so long I thought the line might have gone dead. Finally, I heard a low, frustrated sigh. “That makes so much sense.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. I remembered the girl curled up in her bed, screaming the name of the man who left her alone in the woods. I was not that girl. There was no glimmer of that girl in me. There was no way anyone, not even Noemi, would have guessed that I had ever been that girl.  
  
“I always wondered why the other two wanted you as bad as Aro did. He understood your potential, but Cauis and Marcus... It was different with them. I get it now. You're collateral.” That wasn't what I'd been expecting.  
  
“What?”   
  
“These Cullens. They're powerful?”   
  
“Yes, but they have no interest in it. They live like humans.”

  
“I doubt the Volturi believes that. Especially if they have Talents. What can this Edward do?”   
  
I didn't want to answer her. I'd thought about him far too much for a year, let alone one night. “Telepathy.” I choked, “Mind-reading.”   
  
“Ohhh, dear.” Noemi hummed, “The Volturi has underestimated you even more than we thought. You were supposed to be a bargaining chip if the Cullens ever got out of line.”

“Well, so much for that.” The revelation hurt, but I couldn't see the relevance. I was no one's bargaining chip anymore.   
  
“No, it's worse than you thought. If they think you are the Cullen's weakness, they know also that the Cullens are yours.”   
  
The pieces collided together like cars in my head, “You think they have Alice?”

“I think they have the Cullens.”

The torture rooms. Alice, reaching out to me. Me, cutting her off. Edward. The letter. “They've been planting information. I figured out it was Alice because of a letter to Aro from Carlisle. A scout traded it at the Grove.”

“What did it say?”   
  
“I don't know, I didn't read it all before I destroyed it.”   
  
“Why would you—Oh. Bad blood.”   
  
“It was stupid, I should have kept it. It said they were all in Norway... All except Edward.”   
  
“All except Edward. Where is he?”   
  
“I have no idea. I was human the last time I spoke to him, I—Oh.” My heart swelled in relief.   
  
“What?”   
  
“They must not have him.” I breathed, “If they planted that letter, they wanted me to know he was gone. Missing, maybe? They wanted me to go looking.”

“You would lead them to him, and walk right into a trap. But how could he possibly hide from the Volturi?”

“He's smart. And fast...” As if the Volturi weren't smarter and faster, “I don't know. Corvus said Demetri was in Mexico.”

“Well, that narrows it down. Let's get a message down to Mexico.”

–

It was not as expensive as one might think to buy advertising space in Mexico. We bought billboards, bus stops, taxi signs, and newspaper ads, all with the same simple image. A familiar, flower studded meadow, and the words:

SHE ENDURED DEATH AS A LAMB, SHE DEVOURED IT AS A LION.

St. Isabella, patron saint of the sick and masochistic.

Find salvation where the pavement ends.

(415)913-1987

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bella's recipe for deerblood smoothie: 
> 
> -become a vampire  
> -acquire a cattle ranch  
> -blend equal parts of unpasteurized cow milk and frozen deer blood until frothy  
> -drink through an orange swirly straw   
> (yes, the entire cattle ranch full of newborns is a reference to that tumblr post about how milk is filtered blood.)
> 
> Anyway, I am a literal witch and for every review I will put a curse on SM's bank accounts. hide ya $$ steph, im sending demons. <3


	3. Rainwater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 on Christmas, Chapter 3 on New Years. I'm sober this time, but I'm uploading this a little bit before it feels ready, so perhaps it'll all be a wash.

Edward Cullen was speeding down the highway in a rusted out jalopy somewhere south of Nogales, Mexico, when he saw the billboard. Recognition hit him like a truck. Jasper, in the passenger seat, felt the aftershock of the emotion and nearly doubled over.   
  
_What the hell?_ He demanded.   
  
“That advertisement, did you see it?” Edward turned his head to look, but if it had been there at all, it was already gone, lost to the horizon.

 _If you haven't noticed, I have other things on my mind._ Alice was the only thing Jasper could bare to think of.

“It was...” Edward hesitated. “She endured death as a lamb, she devoured it as a lion. Saint Isabella, patron saint of the sick and masochistic.”

“I don't have the patience for your poetry.” Jasper bit. “If you got something to say, say it.”

“No, that's what the billboard said. There was a phone number— it was— It was Bella's birthday.”

“Wow, what an unnecessarily painful coincidence.” Jasper drawled, annoyed that even in the middle of nowhere Edward would find a way to make Jasper carry his burden. They both had half a mind to wonder if it was a hallucination—a sure sign that Zafrina's crew had caught up with them.  
  
“The lion and the lamb is a reference.” Edward pushed. “It's something I said to Bella once. Sick and masochistic, too. It's—It's referencing something only she would know.”

“The lion and the lamb is a bible motif, its referenced all the _fucking time.”_ Intense grief and anger warred in Jasper's mind. He was barely listening. “And Bella is dead.”

He said it because he knew it would shut Edward up, so Edward opened himself to the hurt in it—punishment for them both. They drove for another five miles in silence, swimming in collective grief, before Edward spoke again. “It's not my fault Maria said no, Jas. We knew she might.”

“I have half a mind to let 'em take me.” Jasper murmured, “At least then I might see Alice again.”

“The only reason any of them are still alive is because they haven't caught _us_.”

“So we run? And we keep running, and we let them break her?” Jasper stared with his fierce red eyes, “And they catch us, and we all die anyway, but Alice _suffers.”_

Another billboard. Edward slammed on the breaks, forcing Jasper to catch himself on the dashboard. “You _see_ that, don't you?” Edward asked, pointing to it.

It _was_ a strange advertisement. Reflective white words against an image of a meadow, alive with a carpet of yellow flowers. “I see it. Do we really have time for this?”

“What else should we be doing right now, short of letting Demitri catch us?” Edward asked bitterly. Maria had been their last chance.   
  
Jasper sighed, “Explain to me again the significance of the...billboard.”

Both Edward and Jasper braced for the pain that would inevitably come with remembering Bella. When it was done, Jasper eyed the advertisement warily, considering it under the fading light _. “_ We should call the number.”

Edward had his phone out in one second, and was dialing in the next, trying not to imagine the way Bella's voice might sound on the other end. _Thank you for calling the Parish of Saint Isabel of El Paso--_ He hung up. “Saint Isabel. The billboard says Isabella.”

“Could be a typo.”   
  
“Or plausible deniability. Calls can be rerouted.”

Jasper winced, “You... think Bella's still alive?”

Edward couldn't speak.   
  
“You heard what the wolves said, you went to her grave—” Jasper stopped himself. Reminding Edward that Bella was gone was sometimes necessary, putting him back into the headspace he'd been in when he found out was just cruel. “What message would this even be sending?”

 _She endured death as a lamb, she devoured it as a lion._ “That she's alive, or... like us?” _Find salvation where the sidewalk ends._ “That she knows we're in trouble? That she can help? She's at the meadow, waiting for me?”

Edward's voice had taken on a tone that Jasper had never heard before. Peaceful, resigned—Insane, given the current circumstances. “Edward, I don't know if—”

“It's that, or death, Jas. We're up against a wall. There's nowhere to run. We can't fight them. They have our family.” Edward turned to his brother, achingly vulnerable, “Whether she's alive or not, whether she's sending me a message or not—Where else do I have to go?”

“And what about me?” Jasper asked, his voice gruff, “What happens to the rest of us when you find Bella?”   
  
Edward blinked, “Go ask Alice.” And then he slammed on the gas again, speeding ever faster towards the border.

–

The room was dark, and ice cold, not that it bothered Alice much. She couldn't hear anything but the dripping of rain water on wet stones. Her body was pinned down in the shape of a T—a unique experience given her usual strength. But something about this room was draining. She could barely lift her head.

She occupied the time by thinking of her family. They'd had lifetimes together, and she'd been lucky enough to have more. Alongside reality, she had a catalog of every unexplored past, hundreds of years of happiness. In the dark, she was able to explore them all.

She tried to stay away from the ones about Edward. All of his happy endings involved Bella, and she couldn't think about Bella too much. That's what they really wanted.

Of course, she wasn't always alone. Alice knew what was coming before it did, and that took some of the edge off. Even when she knew they would hurt her. Even when she knew they'd make her look for Jasper.

“Where is he, Alice?” Jane asked in her singsong voice, “Where's Jasper?”

Pain.

“Where is he?”   
  
Pain.   
  
“Don't you want to see him again? We can bring him to you. We'll even keep him safe.”   
  
Pain.

Pain.

Pain.   
  
_I have half a mind to let em take me._ It was an old vision, from days ago. But it would keep them occupied.

“No-Nogales. Mexico.” She gasped. They were in Los Angeles now. Going north. It occurred to Alice that they must not actually want to know. Aro could get the truth out of her without all this trouble.

“Which way are they going?”   
  
Pain.   
  
“I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!”

Pain.   
  
“I don't know!”   
  
Pain. 

“Fuck...you!”

Pain.   
  
“SOUTH! South—They're going South. They-they-they changed their minds, they're going to South America to-to hide.”

“Liar.”

Pain.

–

Somewhere much father in the catacombs, Emmett, Rosalie, Carlisle, and Esme lay on racks made of iron and wood, inexplicably unable to free themselves. Emmett howled, thrashing, while Rosalie spoke to him in a soft voice, only the occasional tremble revealing her own fear. Carlisle and Esme didn't speak. They lie silent, paralyzed with worry for their children.

–

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to go to Charlie's place first. But I knew the pain of remembering was coming, like the slow ache before a terrible cramp, and I wanted to acclimate. It was much the same as I remembered it from the outside; once-white siding had gone dim with age, each window decorated with forest green shutters. The empty driveway was the first sign that things were not as they'd always been.

The house was put into Billy Black's name once I died, which I was glad for. I knew neither he nor Jacob would ever sell it, so I was confident as I climbed through the laundry room window. Inside it smelled musty, but there was still a dragging hint of the smell of my father, like a stack of newspapers burning in a wood stove, that nearly made my knees buckle.

All of the furniture was gone—Had been gone for a decade now. I walked numbly through the kitchen, coffee stains still on the tile counters, and into the living room, the rarely used dining room, and up the stairs. Charlie's room was barren, but not much more so than it had been fifteen years before. He _lived_ in the living room, he only slept in the bedroom. The bathmat was still on the floor in the tiny upstairs bathroom. A completely random artifact. Finally, my bedroom. That's when the ache began.

It was much colder than I would have liked it when I was human, but the sense of safety was the same. It smelled like I remembered. I paced a slow path from where my bed had been, to the closet, to the space that once held my desk, then to the window.

Charlie would still be alive if we'd all made different choices. If I'd never met Edward, or if Edward had never left, or if the wolves had caught Victoria, she wouldn't have been able to do what she'd done to us. The emptiness of this house was my fault. It had always been my fault, which is why I was so terrified to come back to it. In the same way that you drink the bleach to feel the burn, I stood in the final resting place of my humanity to feel it's emptiness.

The sun set long before I made it to the meadow. I didn't know when Edward would appear—if he would appear. I didn't know how long I would have to sit there, pretending that this most sacred piece of wilderness was just like any other, to save myself the pain that would eventually arrive to humiliate me.

The grass was dead, just like last time. As I broke through the trees it started to snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where I tell you to take some time to go down to that nifty little comment section and use the 10 digits on the ends of your hands to give me the resolve to publish another chapter by Groundhog's Day.


	4. Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The geography in this drafty fanfic is low to no-effort, so don't come for me lmao.

What Edward found standing in the meadow was not Bella Swan—at least, not the one he knew. The woman—for she was a woman, curving in different places, taller than his timeless eidetic memory recalled—was wearing a maroon leather jacket and black denim pants, the kind of boots you might slog through the snow in laced all the way up her shins. Her hair, chestnut brown like Bella's, was in a tight bun, a few strands escaping to frame her perplexing face. Perplexing, because it seemed to be many things at once.

It was as if he was recognizing her face under a near opaque mask, just the slightest hint of Bella shown through. Something about the cut of her chin and the fullness of her bottom lip hinted at her true identity, but everything else was almost intentionally designed to distract from it. Edward couldn't quite make sense of it.  
  
“Do you recognize me?” She asked, her voice carried like a bell over the freshly fallen snow. The same voice, sweet, with a bit of rasp. Just clearer now. Undoubtedly a vampire's voice.  
  
“Of course.” Edward choked. Always. He could never forget. He took an unsteady step forward.

“Thank you for coming.” She said, a strict professionalism in her tone, “I know it must have been hard for you. It was hard for me too.”

“Are you-- Is this real?” He knew it was a foolish and pointless question. Her answer would not prove her reality, and her reality made no difference to him. He was with Bella now. To hell with the rest.   
  
She was a foot in front of him in a flash, and he had to force himself not to jump back. She watched him for a moment, waiting, before she reached out her hand for him to take. Slowly, he put his hand into hers. There was no change in temperature. She held his hand firmly in her grasp, and he stared at it, felt the smooth contours of her fingers, felt—for the first time in a decade and a half—like he was breathing again. And then, quick as a whip, she reached over with her other hand and pinched the underside of his forearm. He yelped, but she didn't let go of his hand. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been _pinched._ Grade school?   
  
“This is real.” She reassured him.

Edward's feet moved of their own volition, and there was a sound like thunder as their bodies crashed together. Edward found himself horizontal, Bella trapped beneath him, half buried in the piling snow. “Bella.” He murmured, and tucked his head into the curve of her neck. “My Bella.” She smelled exactly the same, but without the infuriating burn. He inhaled deeply.

“You're fast.” She said beneath him, her voice tight, full of warring emotion. Edward stopped. Resentment, impatience, annoyance? He couldn't tell, so he pulled back to look into her eyes. They were looking down— dark lashes splayed against her cheek. Like the face she used to make right before falling asleep. Like the face she used to make before a kiss. Like— “You can get off of me now, Edward.” She whispered breathily.

He scrambled, as much as a vampire can scramble, to extricate himself from the pile of arms and legs and snow that they had become. “I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, I--”   
  
“It's alright.” Bella said, sitting up and dusting snow off of her arms, “I'm sure it's a shock.”   
  
“A shock.” Edward echoed sitting in the snow beside her, looking not unlike like an obedient dog. He couldn't do much other than stare.   
  
“Well, you thought I was dead, right?” Bella asked, shrugging as she adjusted her jacket. “And I'm not. I mean—I'm less dead than you thought I was. I'm exactly as dead as you are and... That wasn't in the plan you so carefully created for me. _Shocking_.” She pulled the zipper on her jacket up, then down, then looked off into the forest. Still an open book. Frustration. “But this isn't a social call.” She said briskly, looking back to meet his eyes with a hard, golden stare.

“What?” Edwards thoughts were spinning around his head, it was impossible to catch one before the next moved forward.   
  
“I didn't call you here to... _reunite_ or anything like that. I called you here because you're in trouble, so am I, and I think we can help each other. No more falling on top of me, alright?” She got to her feet. Edward followed.   
  
“Bella, I--”   
  
“It's not a discussion. If you touch me again, I'll hurt you.” Something pulled her attention away from Edward's eyes and into the dark forest behind him. “Did you come alone?”   
  
“N-no.” Edward answered, turning to follow her gaze, “Jasper's here. He's coming to make sure I didn't manage to kill myself.”

Just on cue, Jasper broke through the trees, taking down a small sapling on the edge of the treeline with a single footfall. He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes caught the woman in front of him. “Who—Bella?”   
  
Bella gave him a single, terse nod.

“I'll be damned.” Jasper looked her up and down with his wide, crimson eyes. “I suppose you've found your salvation after all, Edward. Now how about you two help me find mine.” The smile he set on Bella was slow, predatory.   
  
“I can't put Bella in danger.” Edward said flatly.

“We're not in danger.” Bella rolled her eyes.

“You already have. Demetri is hard on our trial, he could find us any second.” Jasper argued.   
  
“Demetri won't find you here.” Bella interjected, but they didn't spare her a glance.   
  
“Fine, I won't put her in any _more_ danger.” Edward snapped.

“Then they're going to put her in the same cage Alice is in—or maybe they'll _kill her.”_ Jasper snarled.   
  
“No on is _putting me_ anywhere!” Bella's voice rose high above the trees, quieting the two men in front of her. Edward blinked numbly, Jasper looked at her like she'd just lost her mind. She took a deep, measured breath. If she'd known they were going to act like newborns, she would have brought Noemi to wrangle them. “I need you both to be very quiet. I need you to follow me South East, with your mouths closed, and I need you to not open your mouths until you know what you're talking about.”

Jasper balked for a second before his temper flared, “Excuse me?” His voice burned, and his hands were balled into pale fists at his side, “I was killing vampires before you were a speck in your great grandfather's eye, _child._ I'm not going to follow you _anywhere._ If it weren't for Edward, I wouldn't care an iota what you— _”_

“Save it.” Bella interrupted, a hand raised to block him. She'd heard the _older, smarter, faster_ spiel from a million vampires before him, and even for all of his scars, Jasper was not the most intimidating monster she'd met. “I don't care if you witnessed creation, Jasper. This isn't a pissing contest. You need my help, I need your help, and we have a lot of information to get through before we can do anything at all. Not to wound your ego, but I'm more powerful than you. Which is good news because from the look of it, you're getting your ass kicked. So follow and save your family, or choose your pride.”

Bella turned and ran into the forest. Edward didn't hesitate to dart after her. Jasper, with no clear plan B, ran begrudgingly after them.

–

After about a half hour of running, the snow transitioned into wet dirt. Bella easily avoided all human habitation, crossing a few small rivers, in the process before the trio broke through a line of trees and found themselves on a hill overlooking a long stretch of desolate pastureland.

“We'll have to walk from here. To be safe. I bought out all the land a mile in every direction, but I appreciate an abundance of caution.” Edward followed Bella as she began walking down the hill, gently swaying golden brown grass brushing her knees. Jasper followed Edward, a permanent look of confused disdain transforming his features.

 _Edward, what the hell? What is going on?_ He'd been trying to get an answer out of Edward since they'd started running, but to no avail. He wouldn't even spare Jasper a glance, spending every second with his eyes on Bella. Waves of nauseating awe radiated from his core.

“So, you're a farmer?” Jasper asked, the distain finding it's way into his voice.   
  
“A rancher, actually.” Bella responded without looking back, “Among other things.”   
  
“What other things?”

“Hmm... A real estate developer, a vampire life coach, the leader of an undercover vampire crime syndicate, and uh, I moonlight as a preschool teacher.” She shot him a sly smile over her shoulder. Edward's laugh was tinged with delirium.

“Don't play with me, kid. I have half a mind to turn around and—”

“Then do it.” Bella turned around to face him, walking backwards. “Leave. I don't need _you_ to destroy the Volturi. I need your intel, which Edward has. But after Demetri deals with whatever he's caught up in, he'll find you. You're a discount Chealsea. They don't need you, and Demetri is spiteful. He'll kill you.”

“You don't know anything about the Volturi.” Jasper spat.

“I know more than you.” She said, spinning to face ahead. He wanted to argue, but he had no idea who Chealsea was. She never stopped walking. There was anger in her tone, but Jasper realized he couldn't sense it. He pushed more anger into her, hoping for an outburst, a reason to pick her up and toss her half way across the pasture. She kept walking. He pushed rage in to her. No difference. Fury.   
  
“Stop that.” She said casually, “It won't work.”   
  
Edward stank of adoration now, which was really pissing Jasper off. “I didn't do anything.” He mumbled.   
  
“Yes, you did.” Edward said to Jasper, speaking for the first time since they began, “But it didn't work. Why?”   
  
“Because nothing works on me.” Bella said, “I'm a shield. You're both shielded, too.” She shot a warning glance at Jasper, “Unless I decide you aren't worth the effort.”

“Wow.” Edward uttered under his breath. “A shield. Of course.”   
  
Jasper finally saw some use in this infuriating, arrogant child. A shield would be helpful. Maybe he could take her back to Maria, maybe that would be enough to convince her to fight.

“I don't think we can take her anywhere she doesn't want to go.” Edward replied to Jasper's thoughts.  
  
“Where does he want to take me?” Bella asked as if it were a mild curiosity. Jesus, she really was nothing like the meek, polite creature Jasper had known before.

“Mexico.” Edward answered immediately, “There's an army there, we tried to get their help.”   
  
“Ah, that. the Volturi calls that whole situation the _instabilities._ Sorry, Jasper, I won't touch it with a ten foot pole. I'm not surprised they didn't want to help though, I hear the coven leader down there is an absolute bi--”

“Bella...” Edward interrupted. She looked over her shoulder at him. He shook his head minutely.   
  
Bella smiled, and then looked past him at Jasper, “See, our boy is full of valuable intel.”

Edward ducked his head like a nervous schoolboy, and Jasper put two and two together. “Charms.” He'd seen them, crude, not like these, a long time ago on the battlefield.

“Hmm?” Bella said, but she'd stopped walking.   
  
“You're wearing charms. That's why your face is like that. Recognizable and... not.” She turned to look at him, strange eyes narrowing. A twinge of niggling irritation shot through Jasper again. Unnatural niggling irritation, “Not just a visual charm. Emotional. Is...” He looked at Edward, face slack in serenity. He wasn't even looking, just gazing vaguely in Bella's direction. He threw a frustrated hand toward Edward. “Do you see what you're doing to him?”  
  
“What?” Edward said, looking between them with wide eyes, “I'm fine.”   
  
Bella looked him up and down for a second, before realization dawned on her face, and she groaned. “Shit. It's two-in-one. I didn't think— I can't take it off now.”

“Why not?” Jasper asked. He didn't like being tricked.   
  
“What is a charm?” Edward asked dozily. He was getting worse.

“Because he'll probably try to kill me, and I'm not entirely sure what'll happen to you.” She said to Jasper, “Lets get comfortable before that happens, okay?” She shot a worried look at some outbuildings on the horizon, not visible to the human eye, and then sighed again, “Fuck caution, I guess. Let's go.” And then she darted off. 

\---  
I stopped at the entrance of the Ranch. Jeb was sitting outside at his post. He stood when he noticed our visitors. “Who—Oh, Signus. Good afternoon. New visitors?” He stepped aside.  
  
“Yessir.” I responded, and walked past him, motioning for Edward and Jasper to follow. They'd been silent on the second run. Jasper was fuming, and for all I knew, Edward had lost the ability to speak.

The main ranch property was just a few outbuildings surrounded by a low wood fence. Dairy cows were out to pasture in the distance, but in the center sat an enormous cabin, three stories, red and white. On the front porch sat Strix, who saw us coming. 

She rose and dusted off her ass, walking down the steps to greet us. “Look what the cat dragged in.” She smiled, looking over our visitors with her warm, black eyes. I turned to them.   
  
“This is Strix. That isn't her real name. Important people have code names here. I go by Signus. _Never_ say my real name in front of anyone, got it?”

“'Kay.”

“Uh-huh.”   
  
“So which one is the old flame?” Strix asked, knowing full there was no such thing as an _old flame_ for a vampire.  
  
Edward raised his hand dopily. She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Edward.”

“The other one is Jasper.” I said, eager to be done with the small talk Strix loved so much, “We need rooms.”

“How many?”   
  
“Two. I fucked up with the charms. Jasper can handle himself but Edward...” To illustrate, I leaned over and grabbed his arm, raised it in the air, and let it fall. It flopped back down to his side. He didn't seem to notice, instead blinking prettily at me, eyelashes fluttering.   
  
“Oh. _Oh.”_ She cringed. “Take your pick. I'll lead our friend Jasper here to a suite.”   
  
I took Edward's hand and darted past them to the second floor suite, pulled Edward into it, and closed the door.

The room was large, with a bed, a door out onto the balcony, and a master bathroom attached. I pulled Edward over to the bed and sat him down. “I don't sleep.” He murmured suggestively.   
  
“I know.” I said, stepping back, “In a moment, this is going to feel intentional, but I _promise_ I didn't mean to do this, and I'm sorry.”

I reached up under my jacket and shirt and felt around for the small wooden charm tied around the underwire of my bra. I yanked it off and crushed it with the twitch of my fingers. Edward blinked. Blinked again. And again. His glazed eyes didn't leave my face.

My charm was special, and it worked in two ways. First, it helped obscure my identity by masking my physical features to closer match the visual appearance that was expected by the viewer. Secondly, it was a _charm_ charm, useful for smoothing over animosity, more easily convincing disruptive parties to compromise, and most notably, enhancing any characteristic that appealed to the charmed person in question.

Jasper's emotional Talent meant that he had an inherent aversion to any artificial emotional manipulation. It had just agitated him. But Edward was my _mate._ No matter what, everything about me appealed to him, undeniably. And in his heightened emotional state, the artificial mood regulation had created a spiral affect that had left him near perfect bliss. Not so bad until you consider that his sister had been kidnapped, he hadn't seen his mate in fifteen years, and he was currently being chased by a murderous vampire government. As soon as the spell was broken, a lot of pain was going to come rushing back to his soft, unprepared brain. All at once.

“Oh no.” He whispered, wide eyes dropping to the floor. “Oh, no no no no. Oh God. Oh no.” He leaned over, resting his arms on his knees. I tried not to admire the way his hair caught the light as I put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I'm too late. I'm too late. I'm always too late.” He moaned, seemingly speaking directly to the carpet, “I'm always too late. I'm always too late.”

“You're not too late.” I said gently, crouching down to eye level. “It's okay.”

“It's not!” He cried, his head falling into his hands, “Everything's over. Dead. Gone. Everything. God.” And then he began to sob. He cried softly, with his head in his hands, pausing to take great big unnecessary gasps of air, never raising his head, the heels of his hands dug into his eyes.   
  
I was frozen, pushed into that vampiric stillness that only came when I was truly at a loss for what to do. I had expected anger. I'd expected him to lash out at me, to say things that would hurt me, to scream and accuse and blame. I hadn't expected this.

Every once in a while, between sobs and gasps, he would mumble something. At first it was just fragments. _You... They won't... Why..._ But slowly they came together into little sentences. _I'm sorry. I can't fix it. I'm alone._

It was dark outside when the crying finally stopped, and I'd had enough of Edward's pain to last me a century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a man of my word, huh? A new chapter, well before groundhog's day. :P This one was weird, it wasn't happening and then it came all at once. I swear I've been trying to write it since the last time. Maybe i just couldn't go on until I've made Edward cry.


End file.
